


All the Streets in Cleveland are Named for Martin Luther King

by anglheadedhpstr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon, Short, like totally just a character piece, what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:04:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1348492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anglheadedhpstr/pseuds/anglheadedhpstr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Cas does when no one is watching.</p>
<p>
  <i>There’s no bravery in bayonets, in tearing down the gates.  If you see me with a rifle don’t ask me what it’s for. I fight my father’s war.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Streets in Cleveland are Named for Martin Luther King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drashian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drashian/gifts).



> It is a loose version of Cas’s POV during seasons 4 and 5, less for canon events and more for character building.  
> Reviews appreciated, as well as hugs and love and criticism.  
> Enjoy!

In the dark morning hours Castiel remembers what it felt like to learn how to feel. How after building a new body with his hands and gently laying a bright soul inside its old home he spent the next twenty hours flat on a bed of green somewhere in Ireland, getting used to the feel of sharp blades against his fingertips.  
It is strange, he recollects now, that he didn’t realize at first. That when every blade of grass was felt somewhere deep with in him, when those blades called to the part of him still connected to the creation of the Earth, he didn’t realize that there was beauty here.   
***  
Castel remembers Hell. He figures that if he slept, if he dreamed, he might remember it then as well, but he is instead drawn into waking nightmares where instead of the dark walls of hotel rooms he sees those tortured souls and hears their screaming, and he remembers his anger.  
Anger that drove him to protect Dean Winchester at all costs. Anger that made him look into this soul and wonder at what point does a man with a soul such as his choose to be tainted with darkness.   
Anger to make him question.  
He never knew his father well, but he knows what it’s like to create someone. To pick up the pieces and turn an object into a living being capable of choices.  
He can’t help but wonder why his father never fought for them like he is beginning to realise he would always fight for Dean.  
***  
When Sam and Dean sleep, Castiel watches the stars. He looks out past the vision of a mortal into blue night sky and sees atomic explosions and star dust and the creation of the universe.  
It is the belief of humans that if you look far enough into the night sky you can see the past.  
Castiel knows science, he was there upon it’s creation, but he does not have that ability to see as humans do. To look far enough and see the beginning.  
Castiel instead must look into his own mind for those answers, but the longer he is here among those searching he finds himself among their own numbers, waiting for answers from a being that will not show himself.  
***  
For _Cas_ , it was never a question as to where the orders were coming from but instead it was a question of _are these orders right_.  
There are many who do not understand the difference in questioning a leader or instead questioning his motives, but Cas understands.  
And there are many moments when he believes that the Winchesters do to.  
And that will always be worth much more than the entire Host of Heaven to someone like Cas.  
***  
There were many times that Cas thought about what it would mean to be human. When he reflected on the feeling of grass between his fingers, the numerous occasions he stood vigil over a brightly shining soul in a war ravaged body, and whenever he remembers the feeling of contentment from the hand of a soldier.  
When he left the Host, Cas had expected it to happen. Had been somewhat relieved, in a way, to know what it meant to be normal. To eventually be able to see the world around him from the eyes of those his father created to enjoy it. To see Earth as it was meant to be seen, full of beauty that is too sharp for an angel’s eyes.  
But Cas had not expected pain, or hunger, or thirst. He had not expected to miss seeing the whole galaxy at one time and being able to bask in the comfort of the cosmos while standing on a hillside.  
Cas had not expected what it would feel like to be of almost no use to Dean Winchester. And that pained him, until the man himself still chose to stand by his side.  
He missed that, he supposed. The constant hum of awareness and power inside him. Everything else seemed inconsequential now.  
Cas reflects on that for ages, it seems, the things he has given up and the things he has gained and the balance between the two, until he finds an itchiness in his eyes that is explained as tiredness.  
Sleep. We can watch over you this time.  
And when he closes his eyes, there are lightening storms beneath his lids. And he can hear the distant voice in the background, the one reminding him that no matter what he’s lost, it will always be worth it.  
***  
Cas stands on a patch of grass that is lonely amidst the dust and gravel of a play ground. He watches the children play with vigor, enjoying the bright sunlight and the soft breeze.  
He feels like a fool, a hypocrite, a monster for asking Dean Winchester if he would rather have peace or freedom.  
Both such unsettling emotions in that they cause Cas so much joy - something he was not used to feeling.  
He is a monster himself, because he feels that now. Both of them.  
And why couldn’t he help Dean Winchester do the same?

**Author's Note:**

> again, review, comment, thank you.
> 
> For my T'hy'la and best friend and soulmate [Holden](http://archiveofourown.org/users/drashian).
> 
> The lyrics are from one of my favorite songs "[I Do My Father's Drugs](http://youtu.be/dARNPgZzDuw)" by Joe Pug.


End file.
